No More Learning

stop! "
and the words came quite clear, though they were like the croak of a
frog, or the wail of a bird. "A grave! dig me a grave! "

The mist was cold and damp, her hands and face were moist and
clammy with horror, a heavy weight again seized her and clung to
her, her mind became clear for thoughts that had never before been
there.

In these northern regions, a beech-wood often buds in a single
night and appears in the morning sunlight in its full glory of
youthful green. So, in a single instant, can the consciousness of
the sin that has been committed in thoughts, words, and actions of our
past life, be unfolded to us. When once the conscience is awakened, it
springs up in the heart spontaneously, and God awakens the
conscience when we least expect it. Then we can find no excuse for
ourselves; the deed is there and bears witness against us. The
thoughts seem to become words, and to sound far out into the world. We
are horrified at the thought of what we have carried within us, and at
the consciousness that we have not overcome the evil which has its
origin in thoughtlessness and pride. The heart conceals within
itself the vices as well as the virtues, and they grow in the
shallowest ground. Anne Lisbeth now experienced in thought what we
have clothed in words. She was overpowered by them, and sank down
and crept along for some distance on the ground. "A grave! dig me a
grave! " sounded again in her ears, and she would have gladly buried
herself, if in the grave she could have found forgetfulness of her
actions.

It was the first hour of her awakening, full of anguish and
horror. Superstition made her alternately shudder with cold or burn
with the heat of fever. Many things, of which she had feared even to
speak, came into her mind. Silently, as the cloud-shadows in the
moonshine, a spectral apparition flitted by her; she had heard of it
before. Close by her galloped four snorting steeds, with fire flashing
from their eyes and nostrils. They dragged a burning coach, and within
it sat the wicked lord of the manor, who had ruled there a hundred
years before. The legend says that every night, at twelve o'clock,
he drove into his castleyard and out again. He was not as pale as dead
men are, but black as a coal. He nodded, and pointed to Anne
Lisbeth, crying out, "Hold fast! hold fast! and then you may ride
again in a nobleman's carriage, and forget your child. "

She gathered herself up, and hastened to the churchyard; but black
crosses and black ravens danced before her eyes, and she could not
distinguish one from the other. The ravens croaked as the raven had
done which she saw in the daytime, but now she understood what they
said. "I am the raven-mother; I am the raven-mother," each raven
croaked, and Anne Lisbeth felt that the name also applied to her;
and she fancied she should be transformed into a black bird, and
have to cry as they cried, if she did not dig the grave. And she threw
herself upon the earth, and with her hands dug a grave in the hard
ground, so that the blood ran from her fingers. "A grave! dig me a
grave! " still sounded in her ears; she was fearful that the cock might
crow, and the first red streak appear in the east, before she had
finished her work; and then she would be lost. And the cock crowed,
and the day dawned in the east, and the grave was only half dug. An
icy hand passed over her head and face, and down towards her heart.
"Only half a grave," a voice wailed, and fled away. Yes, it fled
away over the sea; it was the ocean spectre; and, exhausted and
overpowered, Anne Lisbeth sunk to the ground, and her senses left her.

It was a bright day when she came to herself, and two men were
raising her up; but she was not lying in the churchyard, but on the
sea-shore, where she had dug a deep hole in the sand, and cut her hand
with a piece of broken glass, whose sharp stern was stuck in a
little block of painted wood. Anne Lisbeth was in a fever.
Conscience had roused the memories of superstitions, and had so
acted upon her mind, that she fancied she had only half a soul, and
that her child had taken the other half down into the sea. Never would
she be able to cling to the mercy of Heaven till she had recovered
this other half which was now held fast in the deep water.

Anne Lisbeth returned to her home, but she was no longer the woman
she had been. Her thoughts were like a confused, tangled skein; only
one thread, only one thought was clear to her, namely that she must
carry the spectre of the sea-shore to the churchyard, and dig a
grave for him there; that by so doing she might win back her soul.
Many a night she was missed from her home, and was always found on the
sea-shore waiting for the spectre.

In this way a whole year passed; and then one night she vanished
again, and was not to be found. The whole of the next day was spent in
a useless search after her.

Towards evening, when the clerk entered the church to toll the
vesper bell, he saw by the altar Anne Lisbeth, who had spent the whole
day there. Her powers of body were almost exhausted, but her eyes
flashed brightly, and on her cheeks was a rosy flush. The last rays of
the setting sun shone upon her, and gleamed over the altar upon the
shining clasps of the Bible, which lay open at the words of the
prophet Joel, "Rend your hearts and not your garments, and turn unto
the Lord. "

"That was just a chance," people said; but do things happen by
chance? In the face of Anne Lisbeth, lighted up by the evening sun,
could be seen peace and rest. She said she was happy now, for she
had conquered. The spectre of the shore, her own child, had come to
her the night before, and had said to her, "Thou hast dug me only half
a grave: but thou hast now, for a year and a day, buried me altogether
in thy heart, and it is there a mother can best hide her child! " And
then he gave her back her lost soul, and brought her into the
church. "Now I am in the house of God," she said, "and in that house
we are happy. "

When the sun set, Anne Lisbeth's soul had risen to that region
where there is no more pain; and Anne Lisbeth's troubles were at an
end.




THE CONCEITED APPLE-BRANCH

It was the month of May. The wind still blew cold; but from bush
and tree, field and flower, came the welcome sound, "Spring is
come. " Wild-flowers in profusion covered the hedges. Under the
little apple-tree, Spring seemed busy, and told his tale from one of
the branches which hung fresh and blooming, and covered with
delicate pink blossoms that were just ready to open. The branch well
knew how beautiful it was; this knowledge exists as much in the leaf
as in the blood; I was therefore not surprised when a nobleman's
carriage, in which sat the young countess, stopped in the road just
by. She said that an apple-branch was a most lovely object, and an
emblem of spring in its most charming aspect. Then the branch was
broken off for her, and she held it in her delicate hand, and
sheltered it with her silk parasol. Then they drove to the castle,
in which were lofty halls and splendid drawing-rooms. Pure white
curtains fluttered before the open windows, and beautiful flowers
stood in shining, transparent vases; and in one of them, which
looked as if it had been cut out of newly fallen snow, the
apple-branch was placed, among some fresh, light twigs of beech. It
was a charming sight. Then the branch became proud, which was very
much like human nature.

People of every description entered the room, and, according to
their position in society, so dared they to express their
admiration. Some few said nothing, others expressed too much, and
the apple-branch very soon got to understand that there was as much
difference in the characters of human beings as in those of plants and
flowers. Some are all for pomp and parade, others have a great deal to
do to maintain their own importance, while the rest might be spared
without much loss to society. So thought the apple-branch, as he stood
before the open window, from which he could see out over gardens and
fields, where there were flowers and plants enough for him to think
and reflect upon; some rich and beautiful, some poor and humble
indeed.

"Poor, despised herbs," said the apple-branch; "there is really
a difference between them and such as I am. How unhappy they must
be, if they can feel as those in my position do! There is a difference
indeed, and so there ought to be, or we should all be equals. "

And the apple-branch looked with a sort of pity upon them,
especially on a certain little flower that is found in fields and in
ditches. No one bound these flowers together in a nosegay; they were
too common; they were even known to grow between the paving-stones,
shooting up everywhere, like bad weeds; and they bore the very ugly
name of "dog-flowers" or "dandelions. "

"Poor, despised plants," said the apple-bough, "it is not your
fault that you are so ugly, and that you have such an ugly name; but
it is with plants as with men,--there must be a difference. "

"A difference! " cried the sunbeam, as he kissed the blooming
apple-branch, and then kissed the yellow dandelion out in the
fields. All were brothers, and the sunbeam kissed them--the poor
flowers as well as the rich.

The apple-bough had never thought of the boundless love of God,
which extends over all the works of creation, over everything which
lives, and moves, and has its being in Him; he had never thought of
the good and beautiful which are so often hidden, but can never remain
forgotten by Him,--not only among the lower creation, but also among
men. The sunbeam, the ray of light, knew better.

"You do not see very far, nor very clearly," he said to the
apple-branch. "Which is the despised plant you so specially pity? "

"The dandelion," he replied. "No one ever places it in a
nosegay; it is often trodden under foot, there are so many of them;
and when they run to seed, they have flowers like wool, which fly away
in little pieces over the roads, and cling to the dresses of the
people. They are only weeds; but of course there must be weeds. O, I
am really very thankful that I was not made like one of these
flowers. "

There came presently across the fields a whole group of
children, the youngest of whom was so small that it had to be
carried by the others; and when he was seated on the grass, among
the yellow flowers, he laughed aloud with joy, kicked out his little
legs, rolled about, plucked the yellow flowers, and kissed them in
childlike innocence. The elder children broke off the flowers with
long stems, bent the stalks one round the other, to form links, and
made first a chain for the neck, then one to go across the
shoulders, and hang down to the waist, and at last a wreath to wear
round the head, so that they looked quite splendid in their garlands
of green stems and golden flowers. But the eldest among them
gathered carefully the faded flowers, on the stem of which was grouped
together the seed, in the form of a white feathery coronal. These
loose, airy wool-flowers are very beautiful, and look like fine
snowy feathers or down. The children held them to their mouths, and
tried to blow away the whole coronal with one puff of the breath. They
had been told by their grandmothers that who ever did so would be sure
to have new clothes before the end of the year. The despised flower
was by this raised to the position of a prophet or foreteller of
events.

"Do you see," said the sunbeam, "do you see the beauty of these
flowers? do you see their powers of giving pleasure? "

"Yes, to children," said the apple-bough.

By-and-by an old woman came into the field, and, with a blunt
knife without a handle, began to dig round the roots of some of the
dandelion-plants, and pull them up. With some of these she intended to
make tea for herself; but the rest she was going to sell to the
chemist, and obtain some money.

"But beauty is of higher value than all this," said the apple-tree
branch; "only the chosen ones can be admitted into the realms of the
beautiful. There is a difference between plants, just as there is a
difference between men. "

Then the sunbeam spoke of the boundless love of God, as seen in
creation, and over all that lives, and of the equal distribution of
His gifts, both in time and in eternity.

"That is your opinion," said the apple-bough.

Then some people came into the room, and, among them, the young
countess,--the lady who had placed the apple-bough in the
transparent vase, so pleasantly beneath the rays of the sunlight.
She carried in her hand something that seemed like a flower. The
object was hidden by two or three great leaves, which covered it
like a shield, so that no draught or gust of wind could injure it, and
it was carried more carefully than the apple-branch had ever been.
Very cautiously the large leaves were removed, and there appeared
the feathery seed-crown of the despised dandelion. This was what the
lady had so carefully plucked, and carried home so safely covered,
so that not one of the delicate feathery arrows of which its mist-like
shape was so lightly formed, should flutter away. She now drew it
forth quite uninjured, and wondered at its beautiful form, and airy
lightness, and singular construction, so soon to be blown away by
the wind.

"See," she exclaimed, "how wonderfully God has made this little
flower. I will paint it with the apple-branch together. Every one
admires the beauty of the apple-bough; but this humble flower has been
endowed by Heaven with another kind of loveliness; and although they
differ in appearance, both are the children of the realms of beauty. "

Then the sunbeam kissed the lowly flower, and he kissed the
blooming apple-branch, upon whose leaves appeared a rosy blush.




BEAUTY OF FORM AND BEAUTY OF MIND

There was once a sculptor, named Alfred, who having won the
large gold medal and obtained a travelling scholarship, went to Italy,
and then came back to his native land. He was young at that
time--indeed, he is young still, although he is ten years older than he
was then. On his return, he went to visit one of the little towns in
the island of Zealand. The whole town knew who the stranger was; and
one of the richest men in the place gave a party in his honor, and all
who were of any consequence, or who possessed some property, were
invited. It was quite an event, and all the town knew of it, so that
it was not necessary to announce it by beat of drum. Apprentice-boys,
children of the poor, and even the poor people themselves, stood
before the house, watching the lighted windows; and the watchman
might easily fancy he was giving a party also, there were so many
people in the streets. There was quite an air of festivity about
it, and the house was full of it; for Mr. Alfred, the sculptor, was
there. He talked and told anecdotes, and every one listened to him
with pleasure, not unmingled with awe; but none felt so much respect
for him as did the elderly widow of a naval officer. She seemed, so
far as Mr. Alfred was concerned, to be like a piece of fresh
blotting-paper that absorbed all he said and asked for more. She
was very appreciative, and incredibly ignorant--a kind of female
Gaspar Hauser.

"I should like to see Rome," she said; "it must be a lovely
city, or so many foreigners would not be constantly arriving there.
Now, do give me a description of Rome. How does the city look when you
enter in at the gate? "

"I cannot very well describe it," said the sculptor; "but you
enter on a large open space, in the centre of which stands an obelisk,
which is a thousand years old. "

"An organist! " exclaimed the lady, who had never heard the word
'obelisk. ' Several of the guests could scarcely forbear laughing,
and the sculptor would have had some difficulty in keeping his
countenance, but the smile on his lips faded away; for he caught sight
of a pair of dark-blue eyes close by the side of the inquisitive lady.
They belonged to her daughter; and surely no one who had such a
daughter could be silly. The mother was like a fountain of
questions; and the daughter, who listened but never spoke, might
have passed for the beautiful maid of the fountain. How charming she
was! She was a study for the sculptor to contemplate, but not to
converse with; for she did not speak, or, at least, very seldom.

"Has the pope a great family? " inquired the lady.

The young man answered considerately, as if the question had
been a different one, "No; he does not come from a great family. "

"That is not what I asked," persisted the widow; "I mean, has he a
wife and children? "

"The pope is not allowed to marry," replied the gentleman.

"I don't like that," was the lady's remark.

She certainly might have asked more sensible questions; but if she
had not been allowed to say just what she liked, would her daughter
have been there, leaning so gracefully on her shoulder, and looking
straight before her, with a smile that was almost mournful on her
face?

Mr. Alfred again spoke of Italy, and of the glorious colors in
Italian scenery; the purple hills, the deep blue of the Mediterranean,
the azure of southern skies, whose brightness and glory could only
be surpassed in the north by the deep-blue eyes of a maiden; and he
said this with a peculiar intonation; but she who should have
understood his meaning looked quite unconscious of it, which also
was charming.

"Beautiful Italy! " sighed some of the guests.

"Oh, to travel there! " exclaimed others.

"Charming! Charming! " echoed from every voice.

"I may perhaps win a hundred thousand dollars in the lottery,"
said the naval officer's widow; "and if I do, we will travel--I and my
daughter; and you, Mr. Alfred, must be our guide. We can all three
travel together, with one or two more of our good friends. " And she
nodded in such a friendly way at the company, that each imagined
himself to be the favored person who was to accompany them to Italy.
"Yes, we must go," she continued; "but not to those parts where
there are robbers. We will keep to Rome. In the public roads one is
always safe. "

The daughter sighed very gently; and how much there may be in a
sigh, or attributed to it! The young man attributed a great deal of
meaning to this sigh. Those deep-blue eyes, which had been lit up this
evening in honor of him, must conceal treasures, treasures of heart
and mind, richer than all the glories of Rome; and so when he left the
party that night, he had lost it completely to the young lady. The
house of the naval officer's widow was the one most constantly visited
by Mr. Alfred, the sculptor. It was soon understood that his visits
were not intended for that lady, though they were the persons who kept
up the conversation. He came for the sake of the daughter. They called
her Kaela. Her name was really Karen Malena, and these two names had
been contracted into the one name Kaela. She was really beautiful; but
some said she was rather dull, and slept late of a morning.

"She has been accustomed to that," her mother said. "She is a
beauty, and they are always easily tired. She does sleep rather
late; but that makes her eyes so clear. "

What power seemed to lie in the depths of those dark eyes! The
young man felt the truth of the proverb, "Still waters run deep:"
and his heart had sunk into their depths. He often talked of his
adventures, and the mamma was as simple and eager in her questions
as on the first evening they met. It was a pleasure to hear Alfred
describe anything. He showed them colored plates of Naples, and
spoke of excursions to Mount Vesuvius, and the eruptions of fire
from it. The naval officer's widow had never heard of them before.

"Good heavens! " she exclaimed. "So that is a burning mountain; but
is it not very dangerous to the people who live near it? "

"Whole cities have been destroyed," he replied; "for instance,
Herculaneum and Pompeii. "

"Oh, the poor people! And you saw all that with your own eyes? "

"No; I did not see any of the eruptions which are represented in
those pictures; but I will show you a sketch of my own, which
represents an eruption I once saw. "

He placed a pencil sketch on the table; and mamma, who had been
over-powered with the appearance of the colored plates, threw a glance
at the pale drawing and cried in astonishment, "What, did you see it
throw up white fire? "

For a moment, Alfred's respect for Kaela's mamma underwent a
sudden shock, and lessened considerably; but, dazzled by the light
which surrounded Kaela, he soon found it quite natural that the old
lady should have no eye for color. After all, it was of very little
consequence; for Kaela's mamma had the best of all possessions;
namely, Kaela herself.

Alfred and Kaela were betrothed, which was a very natural
result; and the betrothal was announced in the newspaper of the little
town. Mama purchased thirty copies of the paper, that she might cut
out the paragraph and send it to friends and acquaintances. The
betrothed pair were very happy, and the mother was happy too. She said
it seemed like connecting herself with Thorwalsden.

"You are a true successor of Thorwalsden," she said to Alfred; and
it seemed to him as if, in this instance, mamma had said a clever
thing. Kaela was silent; but her eyes shone, her lips smiled, every
movement was graceful,--in fact, she was beautiful; that cannot be
repeated too often. Alfred decided to take a bust of Kaela as well
as of her mother. They sat to him accordingly, and saw how he
moulded and formed the soft clay with his fingers.

"I suppose it is only on our account that you perform this
common-place work yourself, instead of leaving it to your servant to
do all that sticking together.
"

"It is really necessary that I should mould the clay myself," he
replied.

"Ah, yes, you are always so polite," said mamma, with a smile; and
Kaela silently pressed his hand, all soiled as it was with the clay.

Then he unfolded to them both the beauties of Nature, in all her
works; he pointed out to them how, in the scale of creation, inanimate
matter was inferior to animate nature; the plant above the mineral,
the animal above the plant, and man above them all. He strove to
show them how the beauty of the mind could be displayed in the outward
form, and that it was the sculptor's task to seize upon that beauty of
expression, and produce it in his works. Kaela stood silent, but
nodded in approbation of what he said, while mamma-in-law made the
following confession:--

"It is difficult to follow you; but I go hobbling along after
you with my thoughts, though what you say makes my head whirl round
and round. Still I contrive to lay hold on some of it. "

Kaela's beauty had a firm hold on Alfred; it filled his soul,
and held a mastery over him. Beauty beamed from Kaela's every feature,
glittered in her eyes, lurked in the corners of her mouth, and
pervaded every movement of her agile fingers. Alfred, the sculptor,
saw this. He spoke only to her, thought only of her, and the two
became one; and so it may be said she spoke much, for he was always
talking to her; and he and she were one. Such was the betrothal, and
then came the wedding, with bride's-maids and wedding presents, all
duly mentioned in the wedding speech. Mamma-in-law had set up
Thorwalsden's bust at the end of the table, attired in a
dressing-gown; it was her fancy that he should be a guest. Songs
were sung, and cheers given; for it was a gay wedding, and they were a
handsome pair. "Pygmalion loved his Galatea," said one of the songs.

"Ah, that is some of your mythologies," said mamma-in-law.

Next day the youthful pair started for Copenhagen, where they were
to live; mamma-in-law accompanied them, to attend to the "coarse
work," as she always called the domestic arrangements. Kaela looked
like a doll in a doll's house, for everything was bright and new,
and so fine. There they sat, all three; and as for Alfred, a proverb
may describe his position--he looked like a swan amongst the geese.
The magic of form had enchanted him; he had looked at the casket
without caring to inquire what it contained, and that omission often
brings the greatest unhappiness into married life. The casket may be
injured, the gilding may fall off, and then the purchaser regrets
his bargain.

In a large party it is very disagreeable to find a button giving
way, with no studs at hand to fall back upon; but it is worse still in
a large company to be conscious that your wife and mother-in-law are
talking nonsense, and that you cannot depend upon yourself to
produce a little ready wit to carry off the stupidity of the whole
affair.

The young married pair often sat together hand in hand; he would
talk, but she could only now and then let fall a word in the same
melodious voice, the same bell-like tones. It was a mental relief when
Sophy, one of her friends, came to pay them a visit. Sophy was not,
pretty. She was, however, quite free from any physical deformity,
although Kaela used to say she was a little crooked; but no eye,
save an intimate acquaintance, would have noticed it. She was a very
sensible girl, yet it never occurred to her that she might be a
dangerous person in such a house. Her appearance created a new
atmosphere in the doll's house, and air was really required, they
all owned that. They felt the want of a change of air, and
consequently the young couple and their mother travelled to Italy.

"Thank heaven we are at home again within our own four walls,"
said mamma-in-law and daughter both, on their return after a year's
absence.

"There is no real pleasure in travelling," said mamma; "to tell
the truth, it's very wearisome; I beg pardon for saying so. I was soon
very tired of it, although I had my children with me; and, besides,
it's very expensive work travelling, very expensive. And all those
galleries one is expected to see, and the quantity of things you are
obliged to run after! It must be done, for very shame; you are sure to
be asked when you come back if you have seen everything, and will most
likely be told that you've omitted to see what was best worth seeing
of all. I got tired at last of those endless Madonnas; I began to
think I was turning into a Madonna myself. "

"And then the living, mamma," said Kaela.

"Yes, indeed," she replied, "no such a thing as a respectable meat
soup--their cookery is miserable stuff. "

The journey had also tired Kaela; but she was always fatigued,
that was the worst of it. So they sent for Sophy, and she was taken
into the house to reside with them, and her presence there was a great
advantage. Mamma-in-law acknowledged that Sophy was not only a
clever housewife, but well-informed and accomplished, though that
could hardly be expected in a person of her limited means. She was
also a generous-hearted, faithful girl; she showed that thoroughly
while Kaela lay sick, fading away. When the casket is everything,
the casket should be strong, or else all is over. And all was over
with the casket, for Kaela died.

"She was beautiful," said her mother; "she was quite different
from the beauties they call 'antiques,' for they are so damaged. A
beauty ought to be perfect, and Kaela was a perfect beauty. "

Alfred wept, and mamma wept, and they both wore mourning. The
black dress suited mamma very well, and she wore mourning the longest.
She had also to experience another grief in seeing Alfred marry again,
marry Sophy, who was nothing at all to look at. "He's gone to the very
extreme," said mamma-in-law; "he has gone from the most beautiful to
the ugliest, and he has forgotten his first wife. Men have no
constancy. My husband was a very different man,--but then he died
before me. "

"'Pygmalion loved his Galatea,' was in the song they sung at my
first wedding," said Alfred; "I once fell in love with a beautiful
statue, which awoke to life in my arms; but the kindred soul, which is
a gift from heaven, the angel who can feel and sympathize with and
elevate us, I have not found and won till now. You came, Sophy, not in
the glory of outward beauty, though you are even fairer than is
necessary. The chief thing still remains. You came to teach the
sculptor that his work is but dust and clay only, an outward form made
of a material that decays, and that what we should seek to obtain is
the ethereal essence of mind and spirit. Poor Kaela! our life was
but as a meeting by the way-side; in yonder world, where we shall know
each other from a union of mind, we shall be but mere acquaintances. "

"That was not a loving speech," said Sophy, "nor spoken like a
Christian. In a future state, where there is neither marrying nor
giving in marriage, but where, as you say, souls are attracted to each
other by sympathy; there everything beautiful develops itself, and
is raised to a higher state of existence: her soul will acquire such
completeness that it may harmonize with yours, even more than mine,
and you will then once more utter your first rapturous exclamation
of your love, 'Beautiful, most beautiful! '"




THE BEETLE WHO WENT ON HIS TRAVELS

There was once an Emperor who had a horse shod with gold. He had a
golden shoe on each foot, and why was this? He was a beautiful
creature, with slender legs, bright, intelligent eyes, and a mane that
hung down over his neck like a veil. He had carried his master through
fire and smoke in the battle-field, with the bullets whistling round
him; he had kicked and bitten, and taken part in the fight, when the
enemy advanced; and, with his master on his back, he had dashed over
the fallen foe, and saved the golden crown and the Emperor's life,
which was of more value than the brightest gold. This is the reason of
the Emperor's horse wearing golden shoes.

A beetle came creeping forth from the stable, where the farrier
had been shoeing the horse. "Great ones, first, of course," said he,
"and then the little ones; but size is not always a proof of
greatness. " He stretched out his thin leg as he spoke.

"And pray what do you want? " asked the farrier.

"Golden shoes," replied the beetle.

"Why, you must be out of your senses," cried the farrier.
"Golden shoes for you, indeed! "

"Yes, certainly; golden shoes," replied the beetle. "Am I not just
as good as that great creature yonder, who is waited upon and brushed,
and has food and drink placed before him? And don't I belong to the
royal stables? "

"But why does the horse have golden shoes? " asked the farrier; "of
course you understand the reason? "

"Understand! Well, I understand that it is a personal slight to
me," cried the beetle. "It is done to annoy me, so I intend to go
out into the world and seek my fortune. "

"Go along with you," said the farrier.

"You're a rude fellow," cried the beetle, as he walked out of
the stable; and then he flew for a short distance, till he found
himself in a beautiful flower-garden, all fragrant with roses and
lavender. The lady-birds, with red and black shells on their backs,
and delicate wings, were flying about, and one of them said, "Is it
not sweet and lovely here? Oh, how beautiful everything is. "

"I am accustomed to better things," said the beetle. "Do you
call this beautiful? Why, there is not even a dung-heap. " Then he went
on, and under the shadow of a large haystack he found a caterpillar
crawling along. "How beautiful this world is! " said the caterpillar.
"The sun is so warm, I quite enjoy it. And soon I shall go to sleep,
and die as they call it, but I shall wake up with beautiful wings to
fly with, like a butterfly. "

"How conceited you are! " exclaimed the beetle. "Fly about as a
butterfly, indeed! what of that. I have come out of the Emperor's
stable, and no one there, not even the Emperor's horse, who, in
fact, wears my cast-off golden shoes, has any idea of flying,
excepting myself. To have wings and fly! why, I can do that
already;" and so saying, he spread his wings and flew away. "I don't
want to be disgusted," he said to himself, "and yet I can't help
it. " Soon after, he fell down upon an extensive lawn, and for a time
pretended to sleep, but at last fell asleep in earnest. Suddenly a
heavy shower of rain came falling from the clouds. The beetle woke
up with the noise and would have been glad to creep into the earth for
shelter, but he could not. He was tumbled over and over with the rain,
sometimes swimming on his stomach and sometimes on his back; and as
for flying, that was out of the question. He began to doubt whether he
should escape with his life, so he remained, quietly lying where he
was. After a while the weather cleared up a little, and the beetle was
able to rub the water from his eyes, and look about him. He saw
something gleaming, and he managed to make his way up to it. It was
linen which had been laid to bleach on the grass. He crept into a fold
of the damp linen, which certainly was not so comfortable a place to
lie in as the warm stable, but there was nothing better, so he
remained lying there for a whole day and night, and the rain kept on
all the time. Towards morning he crept out of his hiding-place,
feeling in a very bad temper with the climate. Two frogs were
sitting on the linen, and their bright eyes actually glistened with
pleasure.

"Wonderful weather this," cried one of them, "and so refreshing.
This linen holds the water together so beautifully, that my hind
legs quiver as if I were going to swim. "

"I should like to know," said another, "If the swallow who flies
so far in her many journeys to foreign lands, ever met with a better
climate than this. What delicious moisture! It is as pleasant as lying
in a wet ditch. I am sure any one who does not enjoy this has no
love for his fatherland. "

"Have you ever been in the Emperor's stable? " asked the beetle.
"There the moisture is warm and refreshing; that's the climate for me,
but I could not take it with me on my travels. Is there not even a
dunghill here in this garden, where a person of rank, like myself,
could take up his abode and feel at home? " But the frogs either did
not or would not understand him.

"I never ask a question twice," said the beetle, after he had
asked this one three times, and received no answer. Then he went on
a little farther and stumbled against a piece of broken crockery-ware,
which certainly ought not to have been lying there. But as it was
there, it formed a good shelter against wind and weather to several
families of earwigs who dwelt in it. Their requirements were not many,
they were very sociable, and full of affection for their children,
so much so that each mother considered her own child the most
beautiful and clever of them all.

"Our dear son has engaged himself," said one mother, "dear
innocent boy; his greatest ambition is that he may one day creep
into a clergyman's ear. That is a very artless and loveable wish;
and being engaged will keep him steady. What happiness for a mother! "

"Our son," said another, "had scarcely crept out of the egg,
when he was off on his travels. He is all life and spirits, I expect
he will wear out his horns with running. How charming this is for a
mother, is it not Mr. Beetle? " for she knew the stranger by his
horny coat.

"You are both quite right," said he; so they begged him to walk
in, that is to come as far as he could under the broken piece of
earthenware.

"Now you shall also see my little earwigs," said a third and a
fourth mother, "they are lovely little things, and highly amusing.
They are never ill-behaved, except when they are uncomfortable in
their inside, which unfortunately often happens at their age. "

Thus each mother spoke of her baby, and their babies talked
after their own fashion, and made use of the little nippers they
have in their tails to nip the beard of the beetle.

"They are always busy about something, the little rogues," said
the mother, beaming with maternal pride; but the beetle felt it a
bore, and he therefore inquired the way to the nearest dung-heap.

"That is quite out in the great world, on the other side of the
ditch," answered an earwig, "I hope none of my children will ever go
so far, it would be the death of me. "

"But I shall try to get so far," said the beetle, and he walked
off without taking any formal leave, which is considered a polite
thing to do.

When he arrived at the ditch, he met several friends, all them
beetles; "We live here," they said, "and we are very comfortable.
May we ask you to step down into this rich mud, you must be fatigued
after your journey. "

"Certainly," said the beetle, "I shall be most happy; I have
been exposed to the rain, and have had to lie upon linen, and
cleanliness is a thing that greatly exhausts me; I have also pains
in one of my wings from standing in the draught under a piece of
broken crockery. It is really quite refreshing to be with one's own
kindred again. "

"Perhaps you came from a dung-heap," observed the oldest of them.

"No, indeed, I came from a much grander place," replied the
beetle; "I came from the emperor's stable, where I was born, with
golden shoes on my feet. I am travelling on a secret embassy, but
you must not ask me any questions, for I cannot betray my secret. "

Then the beetle stepped down into the rich mud, where sat three
young-lady beetles, who tittered, because they did not know what to
say.

"None of them are engaged yet," said their mother, and the
beetle maidens tittered again, this time quite in confusion.

"I have never seen greater beauties, even in the royal stables,"
exclaimed the beetle, who was now resting himself.

"Don't spoil my girls," said the mother; "and don't talk to
them, pray, unless you have serious intentions. "

But of course the beetle's intentions were serious, and after a
while our friend was engaged. The mother gave them her blessing, and
all the other beetles cried "hurrah. "

Immediately after the betrothal came the marriage, for there was
no reason to delay. The following day passed very pleasantly, and
the next was tolerably comfortable; but on the third it became
necessary for him to think of getting food for his wife, and, perhaps,
for children.

"I have allowed myself to be taken in," said our beetle to
himself, "and now there's nothing to be done but to take them in, in
return. "

No sooner said than done. Away he went, and stayed away all day
and all night, and his wife remained behind a forsaken widow.

"Oh," said the other beetles, "this fellow that we have received
into our family is nothing but a complete vagabond. He has gone away
and left his wife a burden upon our hands. "

"Well, she can be unmarried again, and remain here with my other
daughters," said the mother. "Fie on the villain that forsook her! "

In the mean time the beetle, who had sailed across the ditch on
a cabbage leaf, had been journeying on the other side. In the
morning two persons came up to the ditch. When they saw him they
took him up and turned him over and over, looking very learned all the
time, especially one, who was a boy. "Allah sees the black beetle in
the black stone, and the black rock. Is not that written in the
Koran? " he asked.

Then he translated the beetle's name into Latin, and said a
great deal upon the creature's nature and history. The second
person, who was older and a scholar, proposed to carry the beetle
home, as they wanted just such good specimens as this. Our beetle
considered this speech a great insult, so he flew suddenly out of
the speaker's hand. His wings were dry now, so they carried him to a
great distance, till at last he reached a hothouse, where a sash of
the glass roof was partly open, so he quietly slipped in and buried
himself in the warm earth. "It is very comfortable here," he said to
himself, and soon after fell asleep. Then he dreamed that the
emperor's horse was dying, and had left him his golden shoes, and also
promised that he should have two more. All this was very delightful,
and when the beetle woke up he crept forth and looked around him. What
a splendid place the hothouse was! At the back, large palm-trees
were growing; and the sunlight made the leaves--look quite glossy; and
beneath them what a profusion of luxuriant green, and of flowers red
like flame, yellow as amber, or white as new-fallen snow! "What a
wonderful quantity of plants," cried the beetle; "how good they will
taste when they are decayed! This is a capital store-room. There
must certainly be some relations of mine living here; I will just
see if I can find any one with whom I can associate. I'm proud,
certainly; but I'm also proud of being so. " Then he prowled about in
the earth, and thought what a pleasant dream that was about the
dying horse, and the golden shoes he had inherited. Suddenly a hand
seized the beetle, and squeezed him, and turned him round and round.
The gardener's little son and his playfellow had come into the
hothouse, and, seeing the beetle, wanted to have some fun with him.
First, he was wrapped, in a vine-leaf, and put into a warm trousers'
pocket. He twisted and turned about with all his might, but he got a
good squeeze from the boy's hand, as a hint for him to keep quiet.
Then the boy went quickly towards a lake that lay at the end of the
garden. Here the beetle was put into an old broken wooden shoe, in
which a little stick had been fastened upright for a mast, and to this
mast the beetle was bound with a piece of worsted. Now he was a
sailor, and had to sail away. The lake was not very large, but to
the beetle it seemed an ocean, and he was so astonished at its size
that he fell over on his back, and kicked out his legs. Then the
little ship sailed away; sometimes the current of the water seized it,
but whenever it went too far from the shore one of the boys turned
up his trousers, and went in after it, and brought it back to land.
But at last, just as it went merrily out again, the two boys were
called, and so angrily, that they hastened to obey, and ran away as
fast as they could from the pond, so that the little ship was left
to its fate. It was carried away farther and farther from the shore,
till it reached the open sea. This was a terrible prospect for the
beetle, for he could not escape in consequence of being bound to the
mast. Then a fly came and paid him a visit. "What beautiful
weather," said the fly; "I shall rest here and sun myself. You must
have a pleasant time of it. "

"You speak without knowing the facts," replied the beetle;
"don't you see that I am a prisoner? "

"Ah, but I'm not a prisoner," remarked the fly, and away he flew.

"Well, now I know the world," said the beetle to himself; "it's an
abominable world; I'm the only respectable person in it. First, they
refuse me my golden shoes; then I have to lie on damp linen, and to
stand in a draught; and to crown all, they fasten a wife upon me.